Forever Marked
by seekingHARRY
Summary: She made many mistakes. She hurt many people. But now she has a second chance. And she's taking it. Rated T for now. ABANDONED
1. Prologue

_**Disclaimer- **__I sadly do not own anything of the magical world of Harry Potter. __Harry Potter is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I in no way claim ownership of any rights to the Harry Potter Universe._ _That honor belongs to JK Rowling. Any quotes that I take from JKR will be in bold lettering._

**Prologue**

_Rising from the Flames_

The golden feathers of a Phoenix bird sparkle all on their own. No light nor beauty spell gives this creature its natural glow. It attracts even the most evil of evil, the most threatening of villains. It symbolizes life, as a dove symbolizes peace.

But beauty only lasts so long.

This magnificent bird goes through pain and suffering. Engulfed in flames. The glow of beauty replaced with the glare of embers. The trill of song replaced with the crackling of fire. In the creatures place lies a pile of ashes.

But from these ashes, rises a new bird. A new bird with more happiness and strength than the first. A new bird to rival the original, a new bird rising from the flames.

_Burning Day_

She screamed in pain as her limbs curled in unnatural positions. She needed to block it out. She was strong, not weak. She could take it.

_Just stay strong_, she thought. _Don't let Him get you. You are ten times better than He is. Just stay strong._

She let out another ear splitting scream as the people around her laughed at her pain. They were pathetic. They actually got pleasure from her pain. The pain that ripped at her heart and slowly burned away the last bit of sanity she held.

The pain stopped abruptly and the laughter rang in her ears. Panting slightly from exhaustion, she slowly raised her head to glare into the cold red eyes of her 'master'.

'Have you learned your lesson, Whitman?' he sneered still holding his wand at her.

'Go to hell,' she spat. Right now, she could die. And surprisingly, she didn't care. 'Just get it over with. Kill me.'

Pain seared through her once again, but this time she released no scream. This pain wasn't like before, this pain was bearable. It wasn't brutal, toe curling pain. No, it was just a twinge or annoying presence.

She raised her eyes once more and stared coldly into those of the man – or creature – that she used to follow. She knew this was her last moment. She closed her eyes and pictured the small innocent face of her sister.

_Pen,_ she pleaded in desperation in her mind. _Forgive me. I've failed you. I'll never be half the person you were. Half as brave as you were. I'm nothing but scum, feeding off the lives of others. Save me, Pen. Save me._

Suddenly, she felt warmth spread through her. Confused, she opened her eyes expecting to see the Dark Lord's cat-like eyes, instead she saw red. She then realized the red was mixed with orange, moving together in waves and sparks.

_Fire,_ she deciphered.

She expected to feel the pain of being burnt, but soon discovered that she was not engulfed in flames. No, she was_ surrounded_ in them.

A wall of blazing reds and oranges circled around her, protecting her from her near death. She sat, amazed at the moving colors before her. She felt herself slowly being lifted off the floor, floating above them.

As she felt a pull within her, trying to drag her away she saw one last time the fierce glare of cold red cat-like eyes.

* * *

_**AN-**__ Okay, so here's the beginning of Forever Marke. I came up with this idea when I was sitting in bed the other night, and honestly, I love it. This chapter is short, I know, but need not worry, it's only the prologue. The next chapter is much longer I swear. So bear with me. By the way, this takes place in the Trio's seventh year and it follows cannon to a certain extent. (That means I'm still working out some of the plot issues) So yes, the Trio is off on their hunt for the Horcruxes. And no, this story does not follow ALL of JKR's plot line. I promise I'll try my best, but I do deserve some creative freedom. Anyways, till next time! R&R!_


	2. Chapter One

**_Disclaimer- _**_I sadly do not own anything of the magical world of Harry Potter. __Harry Potter is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I in no way claim ownership of any rights to the Harry Potter Universe._ _That honor belongs to JK Rowling. Any quotes that I take from JKR will be in bold lettering._

_**Chapter One**_

_The Flames_

Her heart pounded hard in her chest as she clamped her eyes shut against the nausea that threatened to overcome her. She took a steadying breath and slowly opened her eyes.

Though she saw nothing. It seemed as if she was in a dark black hole, surrounded by darkness. Suddenly a small light caught her eye, pulsing and growing.

It started off as a twinkle and slowly grew. Finally, it grew to about the size of a Quaffle. She cocked her head slowly to the side peering at the strange glow. Reaching her hand out, she attempted to touch it.

Her fingers were only inches away when she pulled back abruptly and cried out in pain. A scorching heat burned up her arm and she cradled it in her lap.

_Corona Borealis Whitman,_ she snapped her head up, expecting to see a person, only to see and elegant bird perched in front of her. Its gold feathers sparkled brilliantly against the red accents of its markings. Its eyes had a hard, yet dazzling affect, as its gold orbs gazed at her expectantly. She gasped as she realized what it was.

A phoenix.

'Can you speak?' she asked in awe. She was certain she was seeing the bird smiling at her, but quickly replaced it with doubts of her sanity.

_No,_ the bird answered simply. _But you, Miss Whitman, can hear me._

'How?' she asked, her voice shook with curiosity and guard.

_I can speak to you through your mind,_ the elegant bird flapped its wings gracefully and landed without fault just in front of her kneeling form. _You are my master, so – in all sense – I am bound to you._

Her eyebrows shot up higher than her hair line as she speculated what the phoenix was saying. 'So,' she started, 'if you're bound to me, what else does this mean?'

_There are several effects of the bonding,_ the bird's elegant voice echoed through her mind. _Few have ever attempted this type of bonding, most of which were done by mistake. So, as you can assume, I do not know much about this situation; we will have to discover these things on the way. But what I do know is firstly I can speak with you through your mind, and vice versa. Secondly, you have the power to call on me at any time. As you've probably already noticed._

She sighed as she remembered the proceedings to this moment, but did not interrupt him.

_I can sense your emotions; your fear, your happiness, your pain, your joy. I can always tell when you need me, whether you call me or not. _

'How did you become bonded to me?' she interrupted as she pondered how all this was coming to be so fast.

_Well, _he started. _When you gave up your old ways and confessed of your wrong doings; I was sent to you. For whatever reason, you've been given a second chance,_ he paused briefly._ Phoenixes are born for the soul reason to help those in need, whether it's emotionally or physically. As I'm sure you know, we have many powers._

_For example, _he continued._ Our tears heal physical wounds, but our song heals all worries and emotional pain. _

_But the more important thing is what we do from here._

She looked at the bird with a confused expression. 'I'm going to get revenge,' she stated simply as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

_But is that the best course of action?_ the elegant bird asked her in a questionable manner. _Could you not think of what you could do to help in this war? For all the people? Don't you think you could do some good?_

'I wouldn't know where to find them,' she said exasperated. 'Wouldn't know even how I could _help_ them.'

_You do,_ his answer remained vague and filled with questions. _You just need to rely in yourself to make the right decisions._

She looked down into its sparkling gold eyes and saw what determination they held. They held everything she wanted to be, _needed_ to be. This was her chance.

She needed to take it.

'Will you help me?' she asked, her eyes slitting dangerously. 'Will you help me along?'

_I can guide you,_ the bird responded, its own eyes wide and still. _But I cannot pull you along. You must do this on your own. I'm simply here to push you in the right path. This will be the last time you see me for a while._

Her heavy lidded eyes stared back into its golden ones, the connection churning.

_Goodnight, white star. Go find your answers._

_The Ashes_

Corona woke slowly as the darkness left only to be replaced with flashing lights. Her first instincts were to jump up and get ready for an attack. She slowly relaxed as she took in her surroundings.

Instead of seeing a battle in action, she was face to face with a Muggle street in full swing.

People rushed by in the darkness of night, ignorant to the war raging in secret around them. Due to the late hour, the occupants of the street were not mothers shopping with their children or business men out to lunch, but shifty characters that looked as if their heads were on a spindle. Several of them would glance at her in fright, – obviously by her ragged appearance and long black robes – to only snap their heads forward and walked speedily away.

She couldn't help but grin in amusement. They feared _her_. If only they knew.

Quickly, she made her way down the side walk, putting on her best 'indifferent' look. In her peripheral vision she spotted a man looking as paranoid as ever attempting to sprint his way down the walk. She smirked as she saw the bulge in his back pocket indicating the hiding place for his beloved wallet. With a swift movement of her wrist the wallet came flying from his pocket and she grabbed it from the air. She stuffed it into the slit in her robe and roamed her eyes over the almost deserted street.

No one seemed to have noticed her little thievery, not even the victim. After scanning the street one last time, she quickly crossed to the opposite side walk and entered the large department store.

She kept the indifferent expression plastered to her face as she made her way through the store. Only after a few short moments, she arrived in the women's clothes department. Since she was sure what she needed she grabbed the items of clothing, and rushed to a changing room.

She slipped on the clothes, picking the right sizes, and turned towards the mirror. She chuckled lightly at her frightening looks.

_No wonder they were all in a rush to get away,_ she thought as she looked over her reflection.

Her long sandy blond hair reached just under her bum and was so tangled that she doubted it'd ever come unknotted. She gazed down at her khaki cut-off shorts and the tight grey tank top that hugged her tightly, making every muscle on her body pop. For the first time, she realized just how fit she was.

Her flat stomach was lined with defined abs, and muscles rippled on her slender arms. She'd always thought her legs were quite strong, and the fact was only proven stronger as the short cut-offs let her muscular thighs show through.

She vaguely remembered the days when she'd been that beautiful little girl with the bubbly personality and gorgeous blue eyes. Now, she was terrifyingly stunning with a stiff demeanor and cold, misty grey eyes. At the age of twenty, she looked almost twice her age.

She sighed as she swooped her hand in a half turn and the tags (as well as security tags) from the clothes fell to the ground. She quickly conjured a hair elastic and brush and got to work braiding her hair into a long thick twist. Then she swiftly slipped on the long black trench coat she'd picked up from the rack in the store.

Before leaving the store she erased the memory of the few staff members who had seen her, covering her tracks. She pulled her jacket closer to her as the cold air stung her pale skin and goose bumps erupted up her arms and legs. She needed to find somewhere to stay for the night, and quick.

The only problem was that she couldn't stay at any wizarding inns for fear of getting caught, so she'd have to find a muggle one. Crossing the street once again, she made her way down the pavement.

Soon enough she reached a shabby looking inn. Walking in, she was greeted with an elderly woman sipping tea in a chair behind a large desk. The lady smiled sweetly at her and sat up in her chair.

'How can I help you, dearie?' she asked in a sickly sweet British tongue.

'I need a room for the night,' she said as she returned the smile.

'Of course, dear. That'll be 60£ for the night,' Corona pulled out the wallet she'd stolen earlier and sighed internally in relief as she counted the correct amount of money. She really didn't feel like Confunding any other innocent people tonight. Handing it over to the lady she smiled. 'Thank you. Here's your key,' the woman said as she gave her the key with the number 15 written on it in black pen. 'Now just follow me.'

Corona followed the woman out into the hall and up to the door with the number 15, its gold paint chipping. She smiled as warmly as she could and entered her room.

It wasn't as bad as she'd expected, but it still had a very shabby and rundown feel about it. She sighed, pulled off her trench coat and plopped onto the bed. It creaked under the weight but she was quickly drifting off to sleep.

Tomorrow was a new day where anything could happen. But tonight – tonight she slept.

***

She stared into the mirror, hands on either side of the sink. Her breaths came out thick, easily definable in the cold room as they formed and shifted into clouds. She watched as the mist coated the mirror, covering it in a thin layer of condensation. Her once heavy and perfect eye liner was smeared and running down her cheeks, a reminder of the earlier nights. It was almost more painful to stare at herself now - to see every scar, cut and bruise – than it was to have actually taken the pain. She felt as if those cold grey orbs would never return to their sparkling blue they once were, and simply stay lifeless.

Reaching up with one hand, she traced her fingertip over the ruined makeup, fixing itself instantly. After each eye was returned to its spookily lined self, she turned towards her lips; dressing them with a dark red lipstick and even darker liner. She was extremely pleased at this moment that her mother – even if she'd led her to where she was now – had taught her all the glamour charms she'd need.

She remembered clearly all the many etiquette lessons she and her sister had suffered through all those years as children, learning to make tea and how to small talk efficiently. Her mother had been set on setting them up with the best pureblood suitors there could be, and for them to be the best wives to accompany them. The balls that they'd gone to had always been her favorite, but to Pen had been torture. Corona had always liked the long gowns and corsets, all the dolling up they'd do before hand. It made her feel like royalty, like she was important.

After all the many dresses they'd been fitted for, she'd become fascinated in the design, even the simple stitching. She'd started designing her own gowns, carrying around a notebook twenty four seven, and had become her mother's pride and joy. Leaving Pen nothing.

So that's why she turned towards the curtains that hung on the windows of the bathroom, and tore them off their rod. The pattern was bland, but with a simple flick of her hand the boring cotton transformed into durable leather, transfiguration being one of Corona's many skills.

Her hand movements grew more distinct and court, as the leather formed and tore into what she was creating. She flicked her hand again at the thin string that was currently helping close the cabinet and watched as it configured into a thick thread. She weaved the thread in and out of the leather, tying it in a corset fashion.

Looking down at her handy work, she admired the intricate leather gloves that were long enough to cover her forearms.

"_They'll serve their purpose nicely,"_ she thought. _"And even look half decent while at it."_

She was quite surprised at her use of humor, but shook it off as she got back to work. Her look had changed drastically from only moments before as she gazed at herself in the mirror. She wore the same clothes that she'd stolen two weeks before at the department store, but didn't mind really. She quite liked them, honestly.

"Okay," she told her reflection. "Now all you have to do is go out there and convince the bloke you're good. Even if you've probably tortured half his family. Personally. It should be simple, right?" She chuckled darkly as she threw on her trench coat and stepped out of the bathroom. Grabbing the wallet that sat on the bedside table, she exited the room with her plan swirling in her head.

She'd been watching him for the past two weeks, studying his very routine and very lifestyle. Where he ate, walked, worked and even used the washroom. It was necessary. This was her only chance.

Fred Weasley was her only chance.

* * *

**_AN- _**_So here's the second chapter. I've posted these back to back because I had them both done for the other site I've been posting on. I hope you stick with this story. I can't promise quick updates since my main fic is Bidding Time right now, but I'll try. And R&R! You know you want to!_


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